Late, For Nowhere in Particular: A Reflection
Rolling down some back-road cloaked in the bliss of anonymity, one arm in contact with the wheel at the point that encourages my wrist to flop carefree at the end of it, head bobbling to a slow rhythmic beat that doesn’t match my rousing vocal accompaniment to Life is a Highway that’s cranked up so loud it’s oozing from the Yukon like displaced mortar, I come across this.
THIS is temptation. THIS signifies a certain head toss to the grinding pressure of today’s world, a ballsy show of throwing caution to the wind. If you look at it with just the right tilt of your head, you’ll get the same glint in your eyes. Selling everything I own would enable the purchase of a few acres in any number of states, on which I could move or build a small house, delivering my bobbling head into town once a week for provisions in THIS.
I don’t succumb. Others in my life would highly disapprove and I highly value these others. I photograph the Ford and pull back onto the road with a slow-mo melodrama moving frame by frame through my brain. It conveniently loops from the part that shows me walking up to the house, knocking on the door, engaging the owner in negotiations, taking the keys from them and driving away into the sunset in that truck. My melodramas never include the pragmatic part about what I’d do with all my crap in the Yukon, the exchange of titles, discussing what oil the Ford uses, insurance, etc.
Not many of us ever throw this degree of caution to the wind. But who among us hasn’t entertained the thought of running away from home, even if it’s for a mere few harmless days? It’s a bit risque and for the first time in my long history of solo road trips I see it for that. You’re out there by the droves sending me emails about the longing to get out there. I fully understand the longing. Few things in our lives are as liberating, empowering, and rejuvenating as a solo road trip.
So I ask all of you with latent and repressed open road wanderlust sitting at home – fantasizing about the cloak of anonymity, arm draped over the wheel, or resting lightly on handle bars – aren’t you late, for nowhere in particular?
About the author:Tammie Dooley’s preferred mode of travel is on foot or by 4WD. All done solo, of course. Her blog, Solo Road Trip, is an attractively designed invitation to follow along on her journeys.
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Posted by Tammie Dooley from Solo Road Trip. on June 25th, 2009 in Articles.
#1Tammie Dooley » June 26th, 2009 at 1:10 am:
I am most free on some backroad. And I really do feel the thrilling liberation of being cloaked in anonymity. It’s such a powerful and unexpected emotion. And while I’ve experienced it many times, it’s always a surprising release for me. I long for it during the in-between times of being part of a community, a family, and a neighborhood where everyone knows the other. When I begin feeling really late for nowhere in particular, I’ll get up that morning and say outloud “I feel late!”. And I begin planning a solo road trip right then.
#2Jerome Peterson » June 27th, 2009 at 2:52 am:
What a great little article to stir up the wanderlust.If cumbersome belongings seem to heavy, how about raising the thumb and take whatever comes down the highway. On the other hand, if reading about traveling adventures is your thing check out the novel “Thumb Flagging”. It’s a great summer read for those that want to take to the open road but are unable.
#3sapience » September 15th, 2009 at 9:22 pm:
if you like riding so i think people should be go mumbai to goa on bike
i can say that will be your best jurney
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shubh
sapience
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